A Deed Without A Name
by StardancerofAS
Summary: What was Alderaan like, what was happening there as the Deathstar approached? Written before books and films, this is what we imagined led up to, and occurred after, the destruction of the Tantive and before a planet died. Organa family and OC's.


A DEED WITHOUT A NAME Mesarthim & Stardancer

Near the edge of the galactic disc,in a broad expanse between spiral arms known as the Cron Drift,three ships huddled together against the soft,pink glow of ancient star death. The Rebel Command ship and it's two support craft had been poised there for some time; taking advantage of the nebula's background radiation to shield them from long-range the bridge of the Dauntless, smallest of the Rebel ships, Mered Sorens sat her shift as navigator uneasily. Twelve years as personal aide to Mon Mothma had changed the thirty-five year old Eritrian intellectual. Her slim figure had thickened,her dark hair now showed a few strands of silver; but impatience was still Mered's biggest fault and four ship-board 'days' waiting for some word on the 'Tantive IV's' status was harrowing. Fingers drumming on her console,Mered's hazel eyes darted toward the bridge chrono before fixing on the 'Dauntless' calm pilot.  
Several meters away, Evann Sorens-sensing her anxious gaze upon him- leaned back in his chair to favor his younger sister with an encouraging smile.

"We'll hear from Massassi or Tierfon soon." He reassured. "Organa may have headed for a smaller outpost. We have to allow for slow communication.  
"And if he was captured?" Finally Mered just had to say what everyone had come to think."Even if he doesn't talk, you know what happens if the plans never get to us."  
"I think it's a bluff." Evann shrugged, stretching out his long legs as he turned to face his worried sibling." The name alone-DeathStar! Classic Imperial propaganda! They don't have to actually build some monstrosity to intimidate half the galaxy. If they have,with or without the plans, it won't be enough to stop the Rebellion."  
"I hope you're right." Mered sighed, glancing out of the viewport toward the stars that waited for Mothma's signal to start civil war. Now every Rebel prayed that their cause was not doomed by a 'super weapon' before it really began. Mothma herself had said it in her last staff confrontation Time was running out.  
"Something had to happen soon.

Time was very much on the mind of a young room-servant who guided a repulsor lift cart down the plush corridors of the Imperial Pavillion was his fifteenth trip already, and he had only been on duty two hours. He could not recall when the galactic capital's second best hotel ( the new "Penumbra" was in a class by itself) was not filled with visiting bureaucrats and Imperial functionaries of one type or another. At least, the boy thought as he sidestepped a cleaning droid, they were all human. A prejudice against aliens was one of the few things he and the Empire agreed on. Even the worst Imperial guest was better that some of the things he had heard had once frequented the Pavillion before the Emperor changed things.

Arriving at suite 553, the boy keyed the comm panel as he meticulously rearranged the covered dishes with practiced ease. Hopefully, these guests would be mid-level ambassadors impressed with the capital and eager to appear important by tipping thinking.  
As severe looking an Imperial officer as the hotel servant had ever seen stood in the open doorway. Definitely an officer;even though he wore only the uniform pants and a black undershirt beneath a short robe, the demeanor was unmistakable. So was the bulge of a hand weapon at his waist.  
" Your meal, sir. " The boy announced, surprised at his own was a slight twitch of thin lips as the Imperial stepped aside to allow entrance to the suite. Steely eyes followed him as he positioned the cart as the tall man directed silently. Two other men, partially uniformed as well, sat a small dining table; as expressionless as their companion. Following procedure, the waiter lifted each dish cover for approval. Only the seated men seemed interested; the tall Imperial remained near the door, glowering.

" Fine." One of the men, a dark, facially scarred sergeant- by the rank on his shirt- grunted in was enough. The boy set the table,and headed for the door with his empty cart.  
A large hand shot out,blocking his exit. The cold eyes of the big officer fixed on him again,this time accompanied by a smile that looked both unnatural and pained.  
" Your gratuity." The man whispered hoarsely, tossing several credit chips on the empty tray- a generous amount, considering the infamously cheap dumbly, the young waiter headed out of the suite , anxious to put several floors between the intimidating men and himself.

" Poor bastard." The Imperial deadpanned once the door closed, " That job is going to kill him."  
" Humor!" One of his companions remarked casually around a mouthful of food as Major joined them at the table. " And he's only been here four days!"  
" Shut up and eat, Jaet." The leader of the Freedoms Sons growled, heaping his plate with a little of everything they had ordered. Jaet and Vaulin exchanged looks and did just that. Neither man had worked with Major before, but they were learning that the galaxy's most elusive anarchist was every bit as brittle and unapproachable as was legend.

Even if Major had been inclined to relax, conversation between the men was inane by design. Seventy-two audio surveillance devices had been found in the four room suite. All but one had been adjusted to garble the receptors; that one-imbedded in a free-form sculpture near the dining area- was left to function normally. Complete surveillance failure would be investigated; they had come too far for that.  
The implied paranoia of the Empire amused the Freedom's ISD, evidently, had little faith in Imperial personnel. So did the irony of an Alliance InTel team, drawing Imperial pay and enjoying an officers expense account while on Radiaa- waiting to assassinate Neiamas Palpatine.

Seventeen years before, Navar Carnathon had allied his infamous terrorist organization with Aerolone Mothma's moralistic Alliance. The association had altered the Freedoms Sons drastically, but Major ( the only name anyone knew ) had not.  
Thirty years spent as a 'zealous, suicidal terrorist' had made the already vengeful man acrimonious. Morals, he was fond of saying, were something Mothma could afford; her family had not given the galaxy Neiamas Palpatine. Mothma's hatred of the Emperor was nothing beside Majors. It was natural that they would collaborate toward his destruction, but it would be both ironic and just when Navar killed the man he knew as Ghairm Carnathon with his own hands. That singular thought had driven Major from the beginning. It had brought him to Radiaa with a team of hand-picked men, all of whom were prepared to die if necessary rather than fail.

******

Before the seven hour sleep cycle, Major, Jaet and Vaulin had time to relax in unaccustomed comfort. It hadn't taken them long to discover that their suite was equipped with the latest in provocative entertainment via the Pavillion's private less than an hour, the men were bored. Imperial propaganda experts had no doubt scripted the pornographic holofeature of the night. The star was an over-sexed Imperial fleet Admiral who charged around the galaxy crotch first. Any erotic possibilities dissolved in the first few minutes when it became obvious that strict bias against anything non-human eliminated aliens from the cast.  
Another amusing hour of viewing had gone by when a light tapping came from the door. Each man reacted according to plan-Jeat out of sight to the left, Vaulin to the , one hand on his concealed blaster, answered the door.  
He paused barely breathing. The knock came again. Recognizable this time. Jaet cued the scrambler for the last 'bug'. As the door slid open, slowly, the grey of an Imperial sleeve became visible; then the man's face-fleshy, pale around nervous brown slipped quickly into the suite. Major had not seen the man in over four years; it had been that long ago when the Freedom's Sons last reported in with the news that Doan had been promoted to officer status in the Imperial army. He had been one of their best 'moles'; rebels placed within the Empire's military whose sole purpose was to position themselves at optimum advantage to do damage to the Empire. Doan had found his way to the rank and file of the ISD,then into position as a security chief in the underground Imperium complex.  
The job had aged the once handsome man decades;now his hair was grey and lines creased his sallow face.

" It's no good." Doan blurted unceremoniously, " You have to get out, now!"  
" Why?" Major snarled as Doan paced the room.  
" It just came over the security net. The Devastator captured the Tantive in the Tatooine system. They destroyed the ship,but Senator Organa is being questioned by Vader himself; the plans-"  
" Senator? " Major's eyes narrowed. " Not the Viceroy?"  
" No, it was specific. " Doan snapped. Acutely aware of the limited time he had to report and get back to his post. " Leia Organa has been caught in treason. Alderaan hasn't been told yet; no one knows, but there's a lot of commotion at the Complex. Things are tightening up. You've got to get out while you still can."  
" Damn that Eritrian and her finesse." Major swore with a grimace." She lectures ME about ethics then trusts everything to a pompous, bored KID!"  
" The Deathstar's her problem." Vaulin offered. " Our objective hasn't changed. "  
" Yeah, we can do it now." Jaet echoed.  
" Has anyone been compromised?" Major queried, mind working furiously. " Is everyone still in place? "  
Doan stepped back to stare incredulously at the three.  
" Major, it's impossible." He insisted." You three aren't coded to enter until tomorrow. The Empire is regulated from here to hell; you wouldn't' get past the first security station."  
It was Major's decision, and he was weighing his options when Doan's belt comlink signalled.  
" Colonel Doan?" The transmitted voice startled them all.  
" Go ahead, Major Arrant." Doan replied expectantly.  
" Lord Vader's ship is returning, and we've just received a Supreme Order-all personnel in the Imperium have been reassigned to combat units. personnel transferral will be completed in fifteen minutes. We're standing by for an announcement from the Emperor, Something big.."  
" Transmission understood." Doan signed off, replaced the comm on his belt, and looked to Major.

" Can you get us on a transport?" The rebel leader frowned.  
" Arranged before I left the office." Doan explained, handing the boarding vouchers over.  
" You go to the Stardestroyer 'Marauder', it's first stop is Citate VI, you can connect with a freight hauler and be clear before they know you're gone."  
" Good enough." Major acknowledged as Jaet and Vaulin hastily packed, " You're a good man, Doan. Bide your time. We'll get another opportunity."  
" Good luck, Major." The Freedom's Son extended his hand to clasp that of his moments he was gone to an uncertain fate.

******

Uncertainty hung heaviest over the Command Cruiser 'Dauntless'. One hundred shipboard hours had elapsed since confirmation of the long-sought Deathstar's existence had been provided by Bail 's Princess, narrowly escaping capture by the Dark Lord himself on Raltiir, had returned from her unsuccessful mission to re-supply that planet's allied government with medical equipment ,with an injured rebel. The man died shortly after reaching Alderaan,but not before he'd passed on information from field liaisons regarding the theft, and transmission, of the deadly battlestations' plans by a small rebel outpost on Toprowa. Suddenly,after months of nothing, everything was happening at once.

Swift, decisive action was necessary, for the lives of the Toprowan rebels-as well as the stolen data-hung in the Viceroy's proposal to employ his own consular ship as 'Skyhook' had been too logical to dispute. Even though, the Alliance president had regretted giving her approval almost , Aerolone Mothma was not a woman to agonize over decisions once they were made. Bail Organa had been her dearest friend,mentor,and irreplaceable military advisor for over twenty had been the first to stand with her against Palpatine's Empire. It was Organa's personal fortune that had financed the Rebellion's formative years; his contacts, influence and the dedication of his people that kept it alive. It would not bode well for Alderaan if the distinctly marked consular vessel were intercepted in it's mission; for the galaxy it might very well end,forever, any hope for , it was with a heavy heart and a worried mind that the former Imperial Senator allowed her body to rest. Her dreamless sleep lasted a mere four hours.

The sharp tones of her bedside comm woke Aerolone instantly. She turned on her pillow,keying the board without opening her eyes. The soft voice of the 'Dauntless' comm officer greeted her.  
"Bail?" Mothma asked, after a breathless moment.  
" No, ma'am. It's the 'Revenant',Captain Yates." Came the reply.  
" Go ahead." Aerolone responded as she sat up. The 'Revenant' was on the Coreward side of the Tion Hegemony, near Bestine; too near Imperial territory to make casual contact permissible. A man's voice crackled in the cool darkness.  
" Eidolon?" Her codename, caution was the rule.  
" Go ahead, Captain. " She replied crisply.  
" The InTel team has reached safety at Base T," Yate's clear baritone was, as always, calm. " And they have reported the packet transmitted and received by D'Cera. " Not Bail? " Aerolone took the news silently. She was somewhat relieved to know that the Viceroy was still safe on Alderaan, and could find no fault with his logic in trusting the Toprowan mission to his diplomatically immune daughter. Leia was well known for her missions of mercy and she capitalized often on the Imperial tendency to underestimate women as a threat. It was the fact that the lives of billions rested,literally, in the hands of an audacious nineteen year old that chilled Mothma.  
" The last monitored transmission from our intercept craft indicated she fled the system, pursued by the 'Devastator'. It has not arrived at,nor contacted, any facility. Passive Ops has further information. Stand by." Yates signed off.

A slight crackle was followed by a series of tones and the electronically translated voice of the Intelligence Division's Commander replaced that of the Freedom's Son.  
" Bad news, my friend?" Mothma prepared herself.  
" It is so, Kursun-Cesaret. The Chigetai's reply was slow and measured; partially due to the translation delay,but also attributable to the deliberative thought processes of his race's distant relationship to Wookiees. " I have failed in my duty. Solar Flare's objective escaped unharmed. We have, however, taken a Calamarian who claims to have been his aide. The prisoner has resisted extensive questioning, yet insists he has valuable information that he will give only to you."

The President's mind whirred. The aide could, should, be considered an unwitting diversionary tactic at best; at the worst a skillful agent and a personal threat, but he was a Calamarian, as incorruptible a race as the galaxy had ever produced. Beings of honor. If he was who he claimed to be; if there was information so important he dared not trust it to anyone less than the Alliance President.  
"Recommendation?" Mothma asked softly. It was her practice to solicit advice,whenever possible, before critical decisions were made.  
" Were I you, I would speak with him." The Chigetai's words were all she needed.  
" I am enroute to your location now. " Mothma replied decisively. " Shift all level Three and Four personnel to Fleet InTel, effective immediately." She keyed the appropriate code into her console,notifying all elements of her military of a shift in objective." The operational countdown is halted. Prepare to recall all teams should the prisoner's data prove important enough to warrant can't afford a margin for error now. I'll expect hard data on positioning when I arrive."  
" Done." Pontianoc signed off. On the 'Dauntless' bridge, Evann Sorens had already taken the ship into hyperspace.

******

" Mama?Mama?" Jari Dinnean, ten seasons old the day before and as inquisitive as three Alderaanian children her age, halted her dance practice in mid-spin to peer out of the dining room's low window. Twisting her long, dark curls absently, Jari looked to her mother." Why is Ekinna Antilles outside all alone?"

Milla Dinnean, still a handsome woman despite the new wrinkles and greying hair, sighed so softly her little girl could not have heard as she prepared breakfast for her family. Pausing momentarily, Milla looked to see their guest sitting a dozen meters or so from the back of the ranch house.  
Beyond, the blue-green water of the Romdive river curled across wide pasture land. After thirty one years on Sirsalis, raising five children, Milla could well understand why the troubled Corellian would seek peace of mind by simply sitting.

" I'm sure she misses Uncle Einar." Milla explained, trying to keep her voice light and steady. " She's probably a little sad too, thinking about Wedge; leaving Alderaan is hard enough."  
Milla let the words trail off, hoping Jari hadn't heard; but the little girl was at her mother's skirt instantly, a plaintive frown on her small face.  
" But Mama," Jari whined, all thoughts of dance practice vanished." I don't want to go! The Viceroy said we don't have to."  
" Don't start." Milla scolded gently while setting a large pitcher and an array of colorful mugs. " We'll leave when it's time,and return when his Majesty say's it's safe. We won't be on Watrous XII very long, Jari; just until the fighting is over."

Like all Alderaanian mothers, Milla had explained the imminent evacuation to her children thoroughly. All the political, common-sense reasons had been offered, and she knew the children understood them, but Milla did not know how to stop the pain and fear the thought of leaving their home caused. No Alderaanian parent expected their children to stoically face what they, too, dreaded so silently.

" Hush, now and eat." Milla urged the sniffing child toward the table.  
"I don't want to go!" Jari whined, fresh tears in her eyes as she took her seat." I don't want to!"  
" Well, I can't wait!" A squeaky voice interrupted. Jari's fourteen year old brother, Phalen, skidded to an awkward stop in time to filch a warm muffin from the tray his mother carried. The look of supreme disgust on Jari's face started his day off perfectly. "Once Uncle Einar get's those plans to the Rebels, Dad, Ladis and me'll help the Viceroy kick the Empire off Alderaan for good! Cheer up, Jari- maybe Watrous XII isn't so bad. Mom won't be able to complain about too much holo-vid, 'cause there wont' be any!"  
" Mamaaaa!" Jari whined.  
" Force preserve us, this again?"Seventeen year old Vala yawned after a mumbled 'morning' to her family, green eyes still fighting sleep. She sipped at her juice as she shifted her chair to make room for her older sister. Bethe, the eldest of the Dinnean's daughters, swollen and ill-tempered in her last weeks of pregnancy, rolled her eyes heavenward at the prospect of another day of her youngest sister's complaints. Even with her mouth full of cereal, the petulant child repeated the same words endlessly.  
Will you hush Jari?" The young matron snapped. " I don't want to go either,nor do any of us! Do you think Princess Leia want's to leave Alderaan?"  
" Bethe, please..." Milla pleaded wearily," ...and Jari, you're upsetting your sister."  
" She complains more than a nayaur after unsuccessful mating." Vala observed drily.  
"VALA!" Milla sputtered, nearly spilling her broma. " I've told you about such language!"

" What unsuccessful mating?" A male voice interrupted. Brye Dinnean, tall and angular, tanned from sun and wind, wavy black hair gone grey, stomped mud from his boots before entering the sunny dining room. As one of Alderaan's largest breeders of the galaxy's prized meat animal, Brye took talk of unproductive mating seasons very seriously. A withering look from Milla,and an understanding nod toward her sniffling daughter,clarified things for Brye.

With stern features softening as he studied her watery eyes and trembling lips,the rancher dropped to one knee beside Jari to smooth her long hair. " What did I tell you about being a good little rebel for Alderaan?" He whispered. " We all have a job to do if we want to live free again. Some Alderaanians have to stay here to protect our home, but others,like you, your mother and brother and sisters have to go to build a colony world for all the people the Empire has hurt. You want to help those people,don't you sweetheart?"Jari nodded vigorously, rewarding her father with a winsome smile as he stood. Phalen, however, did not like being included in the list of evacuees.  
" Ladis told me I could stay." He mumbled around a mouthful of kasha. " I can shoot as good as he can! Don't want to go to no colony world."  
" You'll do as I say, young man." Brye corrected his brooding son evenly. The tension was getting to all of them after a matter of only days; what if the operation was halted indefinitely? " Where is Ladis anyway?" Brye poured himself a mug of hot kafa; slipping at last into the composed manner that served Alderaanian's so well in times of stress." He should have arranged for the airspeeder by now. The flight pattern to Scirelicet will be filled early. Isn't Renata awake yet?"  
Bethe winced as she massaged her abdomen,then pointed toward the window.  
" She's been out there since before sunrise, Father. I feel so sorry for her, it's so much harder. I know how much I miss Martil, and he's right on Ilmanin." Her words trailed off wistfully as she thought of her young husband in his Strike Unit, and her unborn child. War, she knew, was inevitable and for all their faith and determination there were no guarantees that her unborn daughter would ever know Alderaan ,or her father.

Brye glanced around the table at his subdued family, finished his kafa then ruffled Bethe's hair playfully.  
" I'll be right back." He announced going out of the door.

******

Cool breeze tugged at his loose work clothes as Brye approached the small Corellian woman who sat on a stone bench gazing toward the distant Ardalis plateau.  
" He'll be home soon, Renata." The rancher stated simply.  
" I know." The woman answered without turning around. " I would feel better if the Viceroy had gone, but Einar won't take any unnecessary chances." She turned then to squint up at her husband's friend; Brye's gaze was riveted on his land, the bright sky, the common glory of an Alderaanian morning.  
" I was just thinking," Renata observed." Of how very fortunate we've been, how fortunate I've been, to call this the war, it'll never be the same."  
" You're right," Brye responded gruffly. " There won't be a thing left standing. We know that. But when the dust clears, it's going to be OURS again. Not theirs."

The Corellian woman winced at the words. Her own father had spoken thus,so many years before; when Corell's people had rebelled against a much less powerful Empire. Graylin Bithniya, and thousands of his people,had been brutally executed as an example to those who would emulate him. All the courage, determination and fighting rage for which Corellian's were renowned had earned them only death and subjugation. It didn't seem to Renata,despite all the discussions she and Einar had about it, that the taciturn,forbearing Alderaanians really understood what freedom-if it could be won-would really cost.  
But it was Renata who did not understand,even after seventeen years among them, the profound change that had come over the placid, tolerant Alderaanians. Priorities had been reversed, and it was simply not their nature to deny the inevitable or to reject the truth however bitter.

" This," Brye announced simply, waving on calloused hand toward his aqua-green pastures, all that was his; " Is just scenery."  
Renata knew how those words must have hurt, for Dinnean's love for his world was so fierce, so deeply rooted in rock,soil and soul that it had taken a generation for them to be thought-much less spoken.  
" We don't love it more than our principles,or our freedom, though many think so." The rancher attempted to sound positive. " The galaxy learned a lot from your people, Renata; now it's watching Alderaan. If we win, if the Rebellion succeeds, we will start again."

Einar Antilles' wife nodded silently, understanding. It was the philosophy of the desperate-all or nothing, the very precepts by which a fugitive Imperial Senator had fashioned an army of beings like Brye Dinnean. Rancher and noblewoman studied the horizon together for a long moment before Renata spoke.

" Do you think Wedge and John are together?" Suddenly she was worried about her handsome, twenty-five year old son. Neither of their children had been heard from in almost a year.  
" 'magine so." The big Alderaanian answered thoughtfully. Hands clasped behind his back, Brye shuffled one boot lazily at the dirt. " And they'll take care of that battlestation,too. I believe that. Well..." He cleared his throat loudly." I came out here to persuade you to have morning meal with us before you leave." He offered his hand, and the tiny Corellian matron took it; rising on stiff knees to take a deep breath that tasted of new marran grass, meadow flowers and the sharp tang of the Romdive.

" I think about it too." Dinnean admitted as they turned back toward the house. He kept his eyes away from her keen grey ones." We all do. But we trust the Viceroy and he trusts Mon Mothma so...we follow the plan. You know, you don't have to return to S'Jova, Renata."  
" I want to." She smiled; despite their hospitality and the restful surroundings, Renata missed the bustle of the city. There was less time to think there. " It's home."

Brye smiled knowingly as he allowed the tiny woman to precede him indoors; then he paused to glance once more at the perfect beauty of his home, seeing it as it would be...barren, burning,scarred.  
" Damn." He muttered softly. "Damn."

To understand the bitter determination, the agonizing contrast of impatience and dread Brye Dinnean shared with every other citizen, one would first have to realize that Alderaanians no longer saw themselves as they had for generations. Twenty years as the subjects of Neiamas Palpatine, spent watching as every facet of their lives were tainted by Imperial policy- years spent compromising, rationalizing-had left Alderaanians with a self-image of cowardice. It had happened gradually, but generations of restraint had been finally overcome by the same innate defiance that had founded Alderaan four hundred generations before.

The first humans to set foot on the planet had been refugees, outcasts from Adasi;a world whose culture had declined into superstition and paranoia even before beings who called themselves 'Jedi' brought their religion to it's troubled people. Some believed, and for daring to follow 'sorcerers' and encourage belief in a controlling energy field, they were persecuted and banished from Adasi.  
Led by their King, several thousand Adasian's landed on a wide plateau overlooking a blue-green ocean and called their new home,Alderaan-'toward the light'. And when the Jedi arrived to teach and advise they were welcomed by a people who based their culture on a religion that would eventually cost them more than even the Jedi could foresee.

******

Bail Organa's abdication of the throne, in favor of a democracy, altered the lives of his brother and sister as well as his own. Landwerlin Organa had never really forgiven her eldest brother for ending the monarchy and thus the right of secession for herself and her children. Years passed without a civil word between them.  
Her husband and children did not share Landwerlin's bitterness over the loss of a title. The Ellare name was enough to be proud of, and legends of Alderaan's last,great, monarchs-Thouars and Cayleteyne Organa - meant little to them.

Vanaernum Organa's memory of his parents was far different from that of his older siblings. Where Bail and Landwerlin had been restricted by a sense of history and duty to their planet, Vanaernum-from an early age- was free to dream . And dream he did. Even after the winsome, lisping boy had grown into a towering muscular man, whose deep-set blue eyes and thinning brown hair added to his already remarkable resemblance to Alderaan's first King, Vanaernum held to his dream to become the first Organa Jedi. He wanted nothing more.  
Life took the young Prince another way. He became an industrialist, owner of Alderaan's largest erbium mine, and an acknowledged expert in his field. It had taken a violent, soul wrenching argument with his brother to get Vanaernum to plan-in minute detail- what he considered the ultimate act of blasphemy.

The destruction of the Trisialon Plateau, and the three ceremonial buildings upon it, from which the first and the last Jedi to visit Alderaan had taught would, at a pre- arranged signal from the Viceroy, disappear into the waters of the Barisal Deeps forever. Vanaernum's expertise as a geological engineer would ensure that it looked like a natural seismic disaster. The news would be enthusiastically broadcast across the Imperial holo-net ( anything that discredited the old Republic was) and Mothmas far--flung rebels would have their signal.  
Eight men huddled in the small sub-tunnel that angled upward thirty degrees toward the cliff face. Nearly a kilometer deep, the ancient tunnels were cold,clammy and stygian black. Two hand-held fusion lamps barely illuminated the data-pad diagram the men studied, casting their shadows large against the stratified walls. Each man had been hand picked by Vanaernum Organa for his expertise in explosives; each had his own thoughts about their task and were prudent enough to keep them private.  
Vanaernum was even less likely to discuss anything but the technical matters at hand. He emerged from the dark access tunnel accompanied by a small scanner droid,his face grim in the wavering light.

" Caisses team is disarming now." He informed his men. " No follow up sweep this time. Take your time with the re-route,but there have been some slight changes. Two new fault scarps have appeared, twelve degrees below the south escape tunnel. Set the even charges to arc downward at forty five degrees, the odd, same setting three minutes later. Arendall..." Organa looked to the pale,grey eyed man at his left. " The base charges have to go off precisely fifty two minutes after the mains; recalibrate for minimum sensitivity." Keegan nodded, grimacing, looked at his friends faces then began an awkward speech.

"There's something we'd all like you to know,before we split up, Van." Arendall braved. " We don't share your memories of this place;to us it's ancient history. A lot of good happened up there,but the Jedi aren't ever coming back.I mean, by using it this way we can destroy what destroyed them."  
Vanaernum's expression was unreadable as he clapped Keegan on the shoulder. If he had a reply, he reconsidered as Caisse and his team appeared in the passageway. The Alderaanian demolition team disappeared into the access tunnels without further discussion.

******

Pacifism had been a tool used by the people of Alderaan. A tool with which they purchased time...for scattered rebels to form and army,for conquered planets to arm themselves. On Alderaan, pacifism was an art form,practiced by every man,woman and child religiously. The single word- wait-was behind every bowed head,every indignity borne. is gathering support,credits and materiels are flowing from Alderaan,as well as other are not helpless. Let our enemies think us harmless,our time will come. Alderaanians lived with such thoughts and cunning were the only weapons left them; so the proud people watched,patiently,as Alderaan became Imperialized by degrees. For twenty long years Alderaanian eyes were on the future. They were patient. Ultimately, it had cost them their freedom.

It had been a slower process,but life on Alderaan had taken on the same standardized feeling of other subjugated policy controlled every facet of daily life. Citizens could not congregate in groups larger than ten; art, science and commerce were subject to COMPNOR guidelines. Finally, Alderaans educational system was revamped according to Imperial standards and a generation of Alderaanian children were taught that the clone wars had been an unavoidable,necessary evil-instigated by sorcerers-and prolonged by corrupt fanatics of the Old Republic. Order had been restored to a chaotic galaxy when Palpatine ended the bowed to the lies,and kept the truth alive in their homes; they accepted-even befriended-the thousands of Imperial troops stationed in their largest cities and hid rebel agents and weapons in the countryside. They were model Imperial citizens.

Markris Siod, Ablegate/Overseer of Alderaan walked a fine line between severity and leniency in fulfilling his duty to the Emperor. He had never been a strict militarist before his appointment,but seventeen years on the galaxy's supernally peaceful show-world had mellowed him further. Then too, compared to it's first Ablegate, Ursel Feltan, Siod considered himself well-liked and accepted by the populace and the Viceroy. Feltan had been a sadist. Markris' primary objective in life was to serve the remainder of his career-a mere six months-on meek,docile Alderaan; enjoying the good life. Praying that Alderaanian backbone would not , Siod took his command seriously. He was responsible for the enforcement of Imperial law and subject to the discipline of his superiors if he disregarded the periodic sensor sweep ordered by the sector governor. The Ablegate considered the scans a waste of Imperial funds and his time;nothing remotely suspicious had been detected in all his years in charge. Nothing would be found now. Organa was an old man, long past reckless bravado,and his genteel people comported themselves as dutiful Imperial subjects.  
So, it wasn't suspicion or worry that prompted the second scan of the year. It was routine. Just as routinely,Siod hoped that Alderaan would behave itself,making his job-and their lives-that much easier.

" Well, Lieutanant? Has the data been analyzed yet?"  
The ten officers manning the Analysis Station looked up in surprise. It wasn't often that the Ablegate personally collected the report. The plump, dark haired Radiaan had a stern look on his usually amiable face.  
" We're just finishing now, sir." The young officer he had addressed tapped instructions on his keyboard that transferred the incoming diagram onto the viewscreen. Three red spots jolted Siod. He paled noticeably. " We have three S.E.R.'s. " The black analyst cited professionally. " One here on Sirsalis, near the Gissar spaceport; the others on Ilmanin-here, and here."  
" Are any of our T.V.O's in those areas?" Siod frowned.  
" No sir, everyone is where they usually are, Except the Viceroy. He left his sisters home on Mistassin an hour and a half ago, and is just landing at the Niassus islands. Should a recon team go to Ridaught?"  
" I should say not, Lieutenant." The Ablegate snatched the small data pad attached to the console, logged his authorization, then tossed it back impatiently. " But go ahead and dispatch the Confirmation Team. Like as not, they'll find the same thing we always do- nothing."

******

Once the charges had been set and calibrated, and his team had returned to their homes, Vanaernum remained behind. He needed to walk with his memories one,last time. Vanaernum advanced through the escape tunnels that had been carved generations before, the same ones that had served as the escape route for the last Abishai fleeing from Imperial 'interrogation'. After several minutes,Vanaernum emerged from the tunnels to find himself in the largest of the Sialon's buildings. In the very room that had served as the private quarters of visiting Jedi. How long had it been since the last Jedi meditated in the hush of these rooms, Organa wondered. Or taught beneath the soaring iolite columns? Thirty-five years? At least that long to a man who had treasured the memory, bitter tho it was, of that last visit.  
He had been a young man of twenty-one, who had wanted nothing more than to dedicate his life to his religion;to be the first Organa to be called Jedi. Now, in the cold, still sanctuary, Vanaernum could hear the voice of the old Jedi master Daryoush. As kind, sympathetic,and devastating as it had sounded then; his faith had been put to the test that day. Just as it was being tested now. Daryoush had counseled a devastated young Prince by promising that, tho he had no Force talent, his strong belief would be needed one day by the Jedi. A 'different path' the master had foreseen.  
Now,a Prince no more, Vanaernum stood ready to destroy the last physical symbol of the Jedi left on Alderaan. And he wondered if Daryoush had foreseen this day. Vanaernum touched the laser-gouged remnant of the stone benches that had been arranged in a circle around a raised platform. Even the simple dais the Jedi had stood upon had been shattered by rampaging Imperials after the war's end. Their first Ablegate had enjoyed defiling was he had hoped for some insight, some spiritual validation for-or against-his decision, Vanaernum was denied it. The Sialons served no purpose now; as Bail had insisted, it belonged to the past. It's only value was as a instrument to shape the future. The stalwart Alderaanian surveyed the landmark for the last time, bending to lift a small chunk of violet stone from the shattered dais before striding back to the subterranean passageway.  
Somewhere in the sunless tunnels, the souvenir slipped from his fingers into a rubble-filled crevice.

******

The sensor sweep of Alderaan ended without Siod any the wiser as to Bail Organa's 's official aircar had, indeed, proceeded to Niassus; but the ever-cautious Viceroy had not been on it. Arranging before hand to be unobtrusively piloted back to Barisal by a member of his sister's staff, the Viceroy was within a kilometer of the Imperial Sector Command office while the Ablegate thought him to be at the home of his Minister of Defense.  
Gerer Ridaught and Bail Organa met in Capital offices of the Minister of State for their final war conference.

Nea Juroc had come to know both men well in her twenty seven years as a public official; first as Ambassador to Raltiir, then Sullust. The past eleven had been spent coordinating every political aspect of Alderaan's defense off-world, it's corporate and diplomatic offices, against Imperial retribution. The task had required constant, intense supervision and had left it's harsh imprint in the deep lines on a once lovely face.. Nea looked far older than her fifty seven years, but the green eyes that darted from Organa to Ridaught were as sharp and aware as they always had been. She concluded her report on the notification of Alderaan's Ambassadors in the same dry, clipped tone she always used.

" Ambassador Marrix on Corell, is holding at Readiness Level Two. As is Obrafta on Yaguarund and Peytral on Eritria. No further contact with Raltiir has been made since her Highness' return. Blackmarr is still unaccounted for; along with all negotiable and sensitive materials from our Embassy there. "Uncle Charly 'reported that the ion cannon on Thon was about ten minutes from operational status, approximately eighteen minutes ago. Minister of Transportation, Vuncanan, says evacuation can begin within twenty five minutes of the ground strike and-Gerer, there's a problem with Ribu. Turrens hasn't received the power packs for the Meer-Sonn cannon."  
" Taken care of. ETA three minutes. All others are at readiness Level One."  
"Any word from Vanaernum? " The Viceroy asked anxiously. "Caisse reported in from Ariton. Everything is ready to go on your order." Ridaught reported grimly." I still don't know how you managed to convince Vanaernum to destroy Trisialon when it means so much to him."  
" My brother made the only logical decision he could,based on the information I gave him. All he needed to know at the time. Afterward, he will understand; as will my daughter."  
" Her Highness doesn't know of Trisialon?" Ridaught asked skeptically. " How do you think you can keep it from her? When she returns..." " Leia is not coming back to Alderaan." The Viceroy announced firmly. " At least not until this is over. Antilles carried orders from me,to the commander of whichever base they report to,to detain our headstrong Princess/Senator by force if necessary."  
" I pity the unfortunate Commander. Your daughter was quite determined to remain at your side during the uprising." Nea said.  
" So she said. But I prefer she remain safely in a detention cell when the Alliance and the Empire clash. Her work is done, and even as we speak, Obi-Wan Kenobi and a very special young man are on their way to us."  
" General Kenobi?" Ridaught leapt to his feet, astounded. " Alive all these years? Where?"  
" On Tatooine." Organa sighed as though a great weight had been lifted from him. " Waiting."  
" Who is this 'young man',Bail?" Jurac interrupted. There was something about the Viceroy's expression that sent a shiver up her spine.  
" Anakin Skywalker's son." The smile on the Viceroy's face was the first either of his friends had seen in months.  
" A Jedi?" Ridaught was positively thunderstruck. This was more good fortune than he had ever dreamed of.  
" If things have gone as Kenobi planned." Organa explained soberly,reaching into a tunic pocket. " And if things do not go as we have planned. Reaching across the desk, he placed a small packet before the Minister of State. She recognized the silvery capsules it contained.  
" Strophanthin." " Enhanced." Bail informed her. "Fifteen seconds, there will be no pain. Should you, and your personnel decide to stay, it is an option."  
" My staff." Nea let the words trail off with a shrug. " My place is here."  
" Then, you will be assigned a military guard. No arguments." The Viceroy and Ridaught stood to leave.  
" Bail,wait." Jurac couldn't let her dearest friend's husband leave like this. In a rare display of affection, she grasped Bails's hands." Thank you for all you've done. I should have said it before now."  
He simply smiled, hugged her, and was gone.

Minutes later, a frantic Anizar contacted the Ministerial office searching for the Viceroy. An Imperial shuttle had, without warning,landed directly on the palace grounds.

As his ground limo approached the palace and the gleaming white Carrack class shuttle could be seen poised on the greensward, Bail Organa was thankful that such an occurrence had been anticipated and planned for months ago. Even if Anizar had had more than a few minutes notice of the Imperial's arrival-and by the looks of it, he'd had less than that- the palace guard would be unobtrusively armed and all personnel had been cautioned against unnecessary contact with the unexpected 'visitors', If their luck held,this would be another of Palpatine's minor functionaries exercising newly-granted authority by touring Alderaan's celebrated museums,universities and market places. Many had come before, and they had departed after bullying everyone became tiresome and their ships hold's were filled with appropriated goods. This particular bureaucrat had chosen the wrong time to inflict himself on Alderaan, Bail thought coldly. He would die with...

The thought ended abruptly as the limo passed the shuttle's armed guard. On their uniform sleeves was the circular insignia of IntSec, that, and the sight of Anizar- pale and shaken beside Ablegate Siod- and more security personnel,waiting at the palace entrance changed determination into dread. All Bail could think, as Siod explained that the director of the Imperial Safeguards Division visit was 'official', was that Aerolone had been captured and his involvement with the Rebellion had been uncovered. A lifetime of military discipline was the only thing that prevented the churning fear in his stomach from becoming mad panic.

Siod stopped at the entrance to the throneroom; two guards took up position beside it, the remaining pair accompanied the Viceroy into the vaulted chamber.  
Late-day sunlight pooled on the inlaid floor, falling in brilliant shafts from the transparent dome overhead. The throne itself was backlit by a single beam, making it impossible to see the man who occupied it. He was but a moving shadow as he spoke.  
" Viceroy Organa," The faceless voice was raspy, nasal. " I must inform you that this exchange is being recorded, by order of his Majesty the Emperor."  
Face set, the former monarch of Alderaan stopped before his own throne as the Imperial rose to greet him. The I.S.D. Director, once out of the glare, proved to be a sharp-faced, thin lipped man wearing the black dress uniform of an Imperial officer. Obviously the Empire's dreaded secret police,since it did not officially exist,had no distinctive uniform.

" Bail Organa." The man continued,with a malevolent gleam in his heavily lidded eyes," I am Sinilau,and it is with the condolences of our Emperor that I must inform you of the death of your daughter-the Princess-Senator Leia Organa, as well as all those aboard your consular ship, Tantive IV which was hulled, and tragically destroyed by a freak meteor swarm in the Tatooine system. A comprehensive investigation is underway."  
" No." Bail mumbled in shock and disbelief. " NO!"  
" Pardon me?" Sinilau hissed. " If there is some doubt on your part, I can arrange for you to view the remains. Visual identification may prove difficult,however; entire corpses have not yet been reassembled."  
" MY GOD,MAN !" Siod finally found his voice. " Have some compassion!"  
" God?" Sinilau sneered. " PALPATINE is your 'god', and he says she is DEAD! To question him is treason, punishable by death!"  
" I demand proof." Bail managed through clenched teeth.  
" As any father would." Sinilau seemed pleased by his defiance;a malicious smile tugged at his lips as he withdrew something from a belt compartment and held it up to the light. "This subcutaneous identi-chip is damaged,but you will find that it is, recognizably, the Senators."

Grasping the Viceroy's hand, Sinilau pressed the singed plastic into it.  
The official Senatorial ID had been implanted above Leia's collarbone,it was irrefutable proof of her identity and status as a governmental official; it could only have been removed against her will-or after her death.

" I am so sorry, Bail." The Ablegate's sympathy was genuine, and he expressed it despite the baleful glare from his superior.  
Organa said nothing-felt nothing save for a consuming despair that ripped through his soul. Shock-numbed,he stood staring at the glistening wafer in his hand. His beautiful, brave Leia was dead.

" Let it be noted that the Viceroy has acknowledged the notification and has accepted the physical proof offered." Sinilau announced for the holo-recorder. " There will be the traditional rites, of course? I shall remain ,as his Majesty's representative, until they are concluded. Then, we shall determine the nature of your daughters business in the Tatooine system." With a nod and a smirk, Sinilau motioned for Siod to follow and strode from the throneroom with his guard.

Anizar and the palace guard,waiting in the corridor, hurried to the Viceroy after the Imperial's departure.  
Sinilau took his time walking toward his shuttle. There was one last thing he anticipated. Ah, yes! There it was! Organa screamed his daughter's name, just once, and the howl disappeared into the perfumed air.  
It was.... smiled.

******

It had taken Jurac and Ridaught only minutes; both had remained at the government complex awaiting word on the Imperial visit. Neither was surprised to hear the worst from Tarrik, the court attendant. Imperials never brought good news, and disaster of some kind had always been a real possibility given the nature of Alliance covert activity. As Minister of State, it would be Nea Jurac's job to break the news of the Tantivie's loss to the rest of the High Court. As well as the Viceroy's brother and sister when they arrived.  
Ridaught proceeded immediately to his duty-confirmation of the data chip provided by Sinilau ( despite the fact that the Viceroy accepted it as the Princess') and establishing contact with Aerolone Mothma. Direct communication with the Alliance fleet was always dangerous, and Ridaught knew that with Sinilau on planet Imperial detection was even more likely than usual. But the Alliance President HAD to be informed. Ridaught activated the FDHD/L comm unit, a rebel designed system that allowed contact between Alliance ships while in hyperspace. Only Alderaan, and the main rebel base, had fixed units. Operating the complex device expertly, Ridaught transmitted all data relating to the Tantivie, and Alderaan's status in a single microburst.  
His second line of communication involved a complicated relay system, utilizing dozens of secure contacts throughout the galaxy. It was slow, but reliable, succeeding in two hours as a rule. What Ridaught had no way of knowing was that all transmissions from Alderaan were being jammed by the already approaching Deathstar.  
Neither did the Imperials stationed there.

After the scream the throneroom was eerily Alderaanians froze, unsure of how to react at the sight of the Viceroy-hands covering his face-weeping.  
" Get the court physician." The aide murmured to the nearest guard before attempting to help the distraught Viceroy to a chair.  
" No." Organa blurted, sliding his hands from his tear-stained face. " Summon my family,Anizar, and assemble the Court. The Tantive has been destroyed, there were no survivors."  
" God." Anizar's eyes went wide; gasps and muttered curses rose from the palace staff that had gathered at the doorway. Bail Organa moved slowly to a low couch.  
"Ekinna Antilles must be notified before the official announcement; go with the Guardsmens Amtenant, Anizar. Now, leave me, please."  
Dabbing at his own brimming eyes,Anizar brushed quickly past a lone droid who remained after the humans began to drift off.

" Your Majesty?" The Princess personal attache hesitated, reluctant to intrude, but it was driven by anxiety that overwhelmed every other directive. She stepped several paces forward. "If Ara no longer exists, I do not wish to continue."  
" I understand Vi," The Viceroy responded softly. The gentle voice of the manumitted droid only amplified his pain.  
" As much as one of my kind can,I loved her." The mechanical finished softly.  
" She knew, Vi." Bail's voice trembled as he turned his face away. " I only wish I had told her more often that I did."

Anizar was enroute to the Antilles home at Sjova when the ministers began arriving at the palace.

******

The second largest of Mothma's attack groups consisted of fifteen ships,the largest a dreadnaught cruiser formidably armed and carrying a full squadron of fighters. The 'Incisive', and it's attendant light cruisers,were under the command of Brenn Raaphorst,a sixty year old Alderaanian patriot whose short grey-gold hair and weatherworn face marked her as a woman more at home in the mountains of her planets harsh uplands than among spacefaring folk.

During the Clone Wars, Raaphorst had distinguished herself as a Major in the Republic's army; and before as the leader in the movement that had democratized Alderaan. She earned the political and personal admiration of all of it's citizens, even the King she had helped to depose. Her shrewd mind, and charismatic ability to lead others against overwhelming odds earned the General the command of the Task Force assigned to defend her home planet as well as Corell against Imperial retaliation once rebellion began. The 'Incisive's' fleet was poised at the head of the Ison corridor,far enough from the heavily travelled spacelanes to avoid attention, yet near enough to allow swift access to their assignments. To conquer the boredom of waiting,Brenn took the opportunity to personally check the battle-readiness of her crew by visiting the cruisers.

Aboard the Damorian light cruiser' Visseon II', in a port side laser emplacement,Raaphorst was offering the nervous young gunner a word of encouragement before his first taste of battle when her aide/droid informed her that a ship positively identified as the 'Darkfire' had passed the perimeter pickets, She had acknowledged the droid's report without outward reaction to the news of the well-known ships unexpected arrival. 'Darkfire' was a Freedom's Son ship, and aboard her was the now-allied guerrilla group leader,"Major".;  
He had abandoned his assignment on Radiaa, obviously; effectively cutting the heart from Mothma's carefully plotted operation. Brenn had always thought it a mistake to absorb the Freedom Sons into the Alliance; a group so fanatic that even the Jedi had condemned their unethical battle tactics. Major had grudgingly curtailed the most reprehensible of their methods of warfare ( suicide missions employing adolescents among them) ,but the attitude was still present. The Freedoms Sons still considered themselves the superior warriors and the Alliance irresolute in it's adherence to morals while trying to overthrow the Empire. Brenn refused to believe that Mothma's staunch trust of Major had been influenced by the personal relationship that evolved between them some years before. The Aerolone she had known for some thirty five years was too pragmatic to let her heart rule her head in military matters. She wondered, idly, what the Alliance President would do now that Major had thrown away the chance to kill Palpatine.

The Generals lips were compressed into a tight line as a small Skipray Blastboat drifted into the 'Incisive's' range. " It's a 'friendly'." Brenn reassured the inexperienced gunner. " But let's see how you track them. Try to get a lock on it."  
The boy's pale hands activated his cannons targeting computer then gripped the weapon's steering handles. He understood that he was to track the blastboat until he was ordered to disengage. How he performed for the General would decide his fitness for combat. Holding his breath, the gunner jumped when the sharp tone of a computer lock startled him. Reflexively, his thumb hit the firing stud. The single laser bolt passed very near the 'Darkfire's' bow.  
" General...ma'am...I..." The boy gulped, seeing his short career pass before him even as did the blastboat. " No harm done,Nereth." Brenn replied, poker faced; then she frowned as she watched the small ship approach 'Incisive's' docking bay." Keeps them on their toes. See your station C.O. for some time on the simulator though."  
The gunner nodded thankfully as Raaphorst moved on to the other laser batteries. Whatever excuse Major would offer, she had decided ,could wait.

******

He did just that. In a small briefing room the 'Incisive's' First Officer had shown him to; and Major was well aware that the delay was intentional. " Do you realize what you have done?" Major's pale, hooded eyes flashed to his right. The stern faced woman, dressed in nondescript coveralls, wore no rank insignia nor did she need it. Her bearing and expression said 'soldier',General. Her stare was hard, so he slouched casually in the uncomfortable chair.

" I followed standard procedure,the one that says: " Overwhelming odds, run like hell." He responded evenly. "I saved my men."  
" And yourself, I noticed." Brenn glared back. " But then, don't you always? Just report."  
"First of all," Major began by leaning back to stretch his long legs under the table as he steepled his fingers atop his chest. " The 'Tantive' has been destroyed. Doan got it over the Imperial net. That means no plans! The Senator is dead, Radiaa is at High Alert-locked down tighter than an airlock-Vader was expected back at any minute, and the Senate has been dissolved. So, if anyone's ruined this Operation, it wasn't me! Now, which one of us tells Aerolone?"

Brenn absorbed the information without moving from the center of the room. She and Major stared at each other for several long seconds as the vast implications of what he had so casually reported sunk in. Then, hands clenched into fists,the Alderaanian General sank into the chair opposite Major's. Already,he was considering their alternative strategies, as she was; but there was still a cold knot in Brenn's stomach.  
" This is going to be hell." Brenn breathed.  
" Lady," The Freedoms Son promised, his dull grey eyes reflecting nothing of himself. " I've seen hell. This is going to be worse."

As fate would have it, neither General had to be the bearer of bad news. Their commander-in-chief contacted them.  
The call came from the 'Revenant', and it was Aerolone Mothma as neither had heard her in years. There was a noticeable edge to her normally soft voice, a tinge of panic to her measured words.  
A Calamarian named Ackbar, taken prisoner in Operation Solar Flare, had furnished accurate and startling information on the Empire's 'Death Star'. Everything Tion had boasted of to the Organa's, the Alliances' worst fears,had been confirmed in a private meeting between the Rebel President and the Calamarian. Grand Moff Eschai Tarkin had been given command of the Emperor's 'super weapon.  
Mothma did not have to elaborate. Tarkin hated Alderaan. As a commander during the Clone Wars,Tarkin had used his ship to bombard Alderaan mercilessly. Entire cities had been wantonly destroyed, The last of the Republic fleet, under Bail Organa's command, had retreated to the then-Admiral's home system;pursued by a relentless Tarkin, intent on their utter destruction. The Emperor himself had called an end to the war; cheating an enraged Tarkin of the conquest of the arrogant, defiant Alderaanians. Now, that same man was in control of the Deathstar. With or without orders,could there be any doubt as to his first target?

The fact that Major had withdrawn his team from Radiaa, and the information he had provided, was received by Mothma without comment. She ordered the 'Incisive' to Alderaan immediately; to be followed by the remainder of the battlegroup after a slight delay. All efforts to contact Alderaan in the past several hours had proved futile. Sub-space transmissions to-and presumably from- the planet were being blocked. If it were not already too late,( the possibility was there, though unspoken) Raaphorst was to ensure that the Viceroy, his family and court were taken to safety;by force if necessary, and to assist with the speedy evacuation of as many citizens as possible.

Mothma signed off without a single word to Major. Raaphorst reacted instantly,ordering most of the seventeen thousand troops the 'Incisive' carried transferred to the other capital ships. Her suggestion, that Major and his team could be of help on Alderaan, was countered by his insistence that Aerolone needed him more. When the 'Incisive' jumped away from it's group, thirty minutes later, heading for Alderaan; the 'Darkfire' had been enroute to the Bestine system for twenty five minutes.

******

An undercurrent of quiet fear greeted Anizar upon his return to Barisal. Even though the general population had not yet been told of their Princess' death, all of Alderaan seemed poised for upheaval. All of Barisal knew of the presence of the Imperial Security Division onplanet; and, with the prearranged hour of their participation in armed rebellion against the Empire approaching, tension was high. It showed clearly on the faces of the palace guard, who stood at attention outside the Viceroy's suite. They exchanged nervous glances with Anizar as they allowed him to pass, but gained no confidence from his gloomy countenance.  
Bail Organa was nowhere to be found.  
Anizar very nearly panicked as he went from room to room in the suite, expecting to find the grieving Viceroy. His first thought was that the Viceroy had used the secret passageways between corridors to leave the palace with the intent to kill Sinilau.  
The second thought was far more likely.

With the confused guards trailing behind him, Organa's Auxilliary hastened through the hallway until he had reached the Princess' suite of rooms. Once again, the guards took up their positions outside as Anizar proceeded in.  
Everything was as the Princess had left it, only days before, when she had rushed out on the 'Tantive' for Toprowa. Jewelry Leia customarily wore lay strewn across a delicately carved console. Sprigs of rafflesia, picked in bud,were now blooming riotously in the window overlooking the formal gardens. Even the subtle scent of the Princess' perfume lingered in the elegant surroundings.  
Anizar stopped at the open archway that separated the living area from the bedchamber.  
Bail Organa sat at his daughter's dressing table, fingering the neogin hairbrush that lay upon it's inlaid surface; looking far older than his seventy four years.

"Pardon me, your Majesty." The relieved aide exhaled. " I was afraid you had..."  
"I know." Bail murmured hoarsely. "I just had to be ," He held up the heavy brush so that the long brown hairs enmeshed in it lay across his palm. "She had such beautiful hair. Remember when she wanted to cut it? Imagine!"  
In a sudden flash of anger,the Viceroy slammed the metal brush down again. Muscles in his jaw twitched.  
"I let her go. I killed my daughter!" "You can't believe that!" Anizar protested.  
" I DO! I am to blame!" Organa insisted, thinking of his responsibility to protect Leia for the future Obi-Wan had foreseen; and he thought of the boy, who would never be whole without her."It wasn't supposed to end this way,such a short life!"  
" A bright one. " Anizar insisted. " Filled with courage and much good. A life she would not have had were it not for General Kenobi and you."  
Bail looked at his long-time friend, startled.

Of course, Anizar had known! All the years without a word spoken. The man who had been his right hand, whose loyalty eclipsed that of all others, had known what the people of Alderaan did not. Leia herself had not known ,until her tenth birthday, that she was not an Organa by birth. It would not have mattered to Alderaan by then, for the people had taken Leia to their hearts; insisting that she be entitled the Princess Royal, despite the impossibility of succession. It might even have inspired her people, the past few years, when hopelessness loomed, to know of their Princess' Jedi heritage. But Leia's safety had always been Bail's first concern, and as long as the Emperor and Vader existed, secrecy had been unavoidable.

Now, surrounded by reminders of a young woman they would never see again, both men stood heavy-hearted for a few silent minutes.  
" I hope she did not suffer." Anizar murmured finally.  
" I hope she fought!" Bail swore.  
" You can be sure she did." His aide assured. " Just as Alderaan Ministers are assembled in chambers, awaiting you."  
Bail nodded offhandedly, rising slowly.  
"Ekinna Antilles? Is she alright?"  
" No,your Majesty. She took the news badly." Anizar reported."She's with the Tiernan family."  
" Has your own family's safety been arranged?"  
" I sent them to the colony four days ago. " Anizar answered.  
The Viceroy nodded, lost in thought. " I'll meet you in chambers shortly."  
With a slight bow, Anizar left. Minutes later Bail Organa left his daughter's suite for the last time.

The two hundred room royal palace of Alderaan had once housed the families of the court as well as the personal employees of the Organa family. Over the years, after the monarchy and all the pomp and prestige of life at court had passed into history, Organa's staff had dwindled;with most of the remaining servants and employees choosing to live elsewhere.

The Organa's themselves rarely missed an opportunity to retreat to their private estate southwest of palace had become a working place for the Viceroy and his daughter after Celis Organa's death, seventeen years before. Half of the stately, elegant structure was routinely empty; it's suites, ballrooms and offices closed except during the rare visit of some dignitary. The occupied portion of the palace, the third and fourth floors of the rear wings that curved around a large arboretum, still housed the family of several key staff members. Among them , the wife, sister and son of Rorke Tiernan; military attache and First Officer of the 'Tantive IV'. It was to the supportive and grieving Tiernan family that Anizar had delivered Renata Antilles. There, the Viceroy himself sought the wife of the 'Tantive's 'Captain, Einar Antilles, his friend.

The young man who answered the unexpected knock on the door was still in his Guardsmen's uniform, though he had loosened the high collar and removed his boots. Medan Tiernan, twenty five and the image of his red-haired,green eyed father, found himself face to face with Bail Organa-the man who had been,and who in the hearts of the Tiernan and most Alderaanian families still was ,the King.  
" Your Majesty," The young man managed. Somewhat horrified by his own disrespectful appearance. He began to bow," We are honored." " It is I who was honored," The Viceroy responded,touching Medan's shoulder," By your family's loyalty, and your father's friendship, Lieutenant Tiernan. Will your good mother receive me? I do not wish to intrude."  
" Oh, your Majesty." The young man drew himself up,determined to conduct himself properly despite his sorrow. " It would mean everything to her. Please."  
As he stepped into the sitting room, Organa could hear a woman's soft weeping. Medan led the way into the family's private rooms. " Mother?" He called softly. The stout, sweet-faced wife of Rorke Tiernan rose from a large couch near a window; moved toward her son, then stopped.

Avel Tiernan had been a soldier's daughter and a soldier's wife and ,as such, she had been prepared for her loss. But seeing her young son standing next to the timeworn Viceroy reminded her that she could not have accepted the loss of her child as easily. At least she had had nothing. There was so much to say, she could not find the words.  
Bail Organa could.

" I beg your pardon, Ekinna Tiernan,in your time of grief." He murmured." Please allow me, on behalf of the people of Alderaan, and myself, to express deepest sympathy on the loss of your husband." The Viceroy bowed slightly,taking both of Avel's hands into his own.  
" And that of my family for you, your Majesty on the loss of your noble daughter." She replied formally. " We're alright, Sire. But Renata..." With the slightest movement of her head, Avel indicated the woman huddled on the couch, being attended to by the court physician. The small, bearded doctor nodded deferentially; rising to gather his things as the Viceroy approached.

Head back on the cushions,Renata Antilles looked waxen. Her swollen eyes were closed, strangled choking sounds escaped her pale lips. Renata felt someone sit beside her; opened her tear-bruised eyes slowly to see the Viceroy's kind ones. Sobbing anew, she threw her arms around his neck. " It can't end this way." Renata repeated over and over." I want Einar.I want Einar." " I want Leia." Bail whispered, so low only the Corellian woman could hear. " But all we can have is revenge."

******

In the assembly room Anizar found pandemonium.  
The eight Ministers who comprised the High Council, as well as Vanaernum and Landwerlin Organa, were seated around the large u-shaped table shouting at each other. At the moment, Gerer Ridaught had the floor, and the man looked positively livid. Angrier than Anizar had ever seen him.  
Honorand Organa-Ellare stared toxically between insistent 'No's'. Vanaernum, head in hands, looked disgusted.  
The Minister of State's hands tapped nervously on the tabletop while her face remained impassive. The Minister's of Finance and Agriculture huddled together, whispering frantically. In the confusion, the Minister's of Education and Exo-Sociology simply looked bewildered.  
As Ridaught continued, his voice booming, the Transportation Minister rattled off a long list of scheduled evacuation plans, while the Interior Minister vehemently disagreed with everything Ridaught and Dethor had to say. Although he had known every aspect of the plan from the outset, Anizar was confused by what he was hearing and more than a little frightened. Ridaught was insisting that the operation proceed as planned, despite everything...even because of it. The Strike-Team, he reminded, would hold for the pre-arranged signal and definite orders; but Alderaan was armed, and it's citizens were ready to rise up against the Empire. The announcement of the Princess' death could only enrage them. Someone, somewhere, would move against the Imperials, and then-

But the Minister of the Interior would hear none of it. He accused Ridaught of military posturing at the risk of the safety of millions of women and children. To follow the plan-Mothma's plan- he emphasized, now, would be suicidal. Sinilau surely suspected a link between Alderaan and the Alliance, and had come prepared to act if those suspicions were in any way confirmed. After all, the Empire had thousands of bureaucrats who could have made a diplomatic sympathy call. The evasive Imperial Security Division Director would not have come-prepared to spend several days- unless he knew something.  
What if, the red haired Minister tugged nervously at his curled mustache, Sinilau counted on their uprising; knew that by allowing, or provoking, it the Rebel fleet would come to Alderaan's defense and so be caught in an Imperial trap?

Ridaught quickly pointed out that there was positively no evidence of Imperial craft in the Alderaan system. Sinilau had not arrived with a division of troops. He conceded that the ISD probably had an inkling of Alderaan's rebel sympathies, but Sinilau was not a man to waste time if he had any real evidence. Had ' Operation New Hope' been compromised, the High Court, certainly the Viceroy himself, would be in custody ( or worse ) and Alderaan set as a trap to lure the Alliance into the open.

"Would it? Would the Alliance fleet be risked to defend one planet, even Alderaan?" The words were hardly out of Landwerlin's mouth when the air turned electric. Anizar twisted uncomfortably in his chair. The entire operation , the Viceroy's sister reminded, had always been dependent upon the acquisition of the battle station's plans. In so many words, and by her actions, Mothma had left no doubt that her military would not be risked until the Deathstar had been negated as a threat. Since there had been no contact from the Alliance, Landwerlin argued, it was plain that Mothma had not-and never would-receive the intercepted plans. The High Council had to consider Alderaan's expendability to Mothma's overall plan.

It was then, as he watched the shadow of panic invade the High Council for the first time in memory, that Anizar began to be afraid for all of them. For Alderaan.  
In a sudden burst of uncharacteristic anger, Vanaernum Organa lunged to his feet to hurl a water glass against the far wall.

" Enough! " The big Alderaanian thundered. " You're all right, and it doesn't mean a damn thing! It's not just Alderaan anymore, the Alliance is depending on us-the galaxy is watching us! Mothma has trusted us to lead the way to freedom. The Empire is never going to give it to us. We have to take it! If the Rebellion has been compromised, then we can spend our last days as free beings and stand as best we can against Palpatine's forces."  
" And die?" The Minister of Agriculture shouted back, eyes bulging. " Everything, everyone, lost? I am not prepared..."  
" YOU are not prepared?" Vanaernum turned, glaring. " Our people are prepared! They have had their fill of submissiveness,and cowardice."  
" Vanaernum!" Landwerlin flared. " Who are you to judge?"  
" I am a former coward." He answered his sister. " Who has been shamed by the courage I have seen in the streets of Ariton and Ribu, on the farms of Sirsalis and in the mines of Ilmanin. They are willing to risk everything to gain everything, They are willing to die rather than endure suppression any longer. That is the end of it."  
" But what of the non-combatants? The children?" The Transportation Minister asked as his fellow legislator looked away, shamed.  
" Evacuate them," Nea Jurac spoke finally. " Now..begin now, with the rural areas."  
" But Sinilau," The Finance Minister cautioned.  
" If he moves against them, we move against the Imperials immediately." Ridaught looked to the Viceroy's brother with new respect. " Ground fire is all he can use against us now, and we can take the shuttle with the ion cannon. IF he suspects nothing, then we have saved the most vulnerable. Once all the Imperials onplanet are dead, we can complete the evacuation."

Ridaught and Jurac's decisiveness galvanized the other members of the High Court. Orders went out to begin loading the transports assigned to rural areas. Take-offs would begin immediately, at thirty minute intervals. Military units were alerted to monitor each departure, authorized to target any Imperial emplacement that fired on Alderaanian ships. Full scale evacuation of the urban population centers could start when all Imperials on the planet had been neutralized.

Bail Organa entered the assembly room without ceremony; moved brusquely to his chair. All conversation stopped. Grim faced, ramrod straight, the Viceroy dropped a large data pad onto the table. He stared down at it a moment,then lifted still-swollen eyes to his court.

" This." The old man announced, his voice unwavering, " Is the complete diagnostic report on my daughter's identi-disk. It is medically impossible for it to have been removed any more than two standard days ago, and she was alive at the time."  
" Sinilau lied." Nea breathed. " He does know,he's going to..."  
" Die with the rest!" Organa snarled as he sat, fists clenched.  
" Then it's possible that they did not get the Jedi." Ridaught thought aloud.  
" Of that we can be sure." Bail answered flatly. " The Empire would have taken great joy in such fortune. When Leia was taken prisoner, she was alone; and the Jedi and the boy escaped with the plans."  
" Jedi" Vanaernum came out of his chair." What Jedi?"  
" Kenobi." Organa looked to his brother, relieved to share the secret at last, with him. "He has been alive all these years on Tatooine. I sent Leia for Obi-Wan and Skywalker's son. So, you see, the stolen plans are in the hands of a Jedi Knight. I do not doubt that Mothma will receive them; nor do I doubt that she will defend us. Vanaernum."  
The anger and suspicion on his brother's face had gradually changed to understanding. " Destroy Trisialon now! We must give Aerolone all the notice we can. Time is our enemy. Evacuation-"  
" Done, your Majesty." The Minister of Transportation added helpfully." We began in the outlying regions; the first ship should have launched by now."  
" Excellent." Bail turned to the Defense Minister. " Gerer, notify your teams to move on schedule." " The Imperial's headquarters building is doubly defended now." Nea reminded. " ISD troops will not be easy to overcome. It will mean more time, and casualties."  
"I know that, Nea." The Viceroy pushed his chair back to stand. " But I have plans for Sinilau. Gerer,this is what I want you to do..."

******

Brenn Raaphorst had been on the 'Incisive's' bridge since the dreadnaught cruiser had entered hyperspace, hours before. She had hoped that when the opportunity came to return home it would be under less frightening circumstances. Mentally, the Alderaanian General contemplated the swiftest way to carry out her assignment.  
Her battle-group was two hours behind the 'Incisive'. She had estimated that it would take that long to land at the Organa estate,and deploy hand-picked personnel to all military positions. Alderaanians were ready to fight for,not abandon, their world. It would not be easy to convince them to run from the Empire. It had taken years to gather the courage to defy it. Brenn, herself,had never been one to shrink from confrontation. It had been her leadership that had helped overthrow the Organa monarchy; but there was no way to fight against something that could destroy a planet.  
She was getting too morbid.  
Stiff muscles ached as the Alderaanian pushed away from the command console. The gnawing emptiness in the pit of her stomach she attributed to hunger, not apprehension. Time to see what was available in the galley.

It shouldn't' have surprised her, but it did; every crew member was wearing a purple mourning ribbon for the 'Tantive'.The somber decoration was still in her uniform pocket; Brenn had not been able to attach it to her jacket. The last time she had worn mourning was for Alderaan's last queen, Celis Organa.  
Memories of a small girl, violet death-ribbons affixed to her white dress at her mother's memorial service, flooded back. Somber, and wide eyed, the three year old Leia had clutched her father's hand that bright,warm morning; silent tears cascading down her cheeks. No Alderaanian had ever forgotten the sight.  
The tragedy and violence that had marred the Princess' childhood had finally claimed her life, and the ribbons were for her now. Everyone aboard the 'Incisive' had taken the news hard; Raaphorst herself had not been able to face wearing the official symbol of mourning . She extracted them from a side pocket now, with a grimace, and fastened them beneath her planetary insignia.

The 'Incisive's' galley was mostly would be the usual selection of food and drink. No difficult decisions. Nothing changed.  
When they were safely away from Alderaan, Brenn promised herself there would be vanirom for everyone; and an old warrior would order a toast drunk to a young one who'd had more than enough courage,but not enough time.

******

The Imperial Headquarter's building, constructed soon after Alderaan's surrender to the Empire, commanded a panoramic view of Barisal's mammoth spaceport. Black, windowless save for the topmost floor, it rose like a dark nightmare from amid the old, ornate, governmental buildings at the city's center. Unlike other Imperial facilities elsewhere in the galaxy, the forbidding monolith contained fine furnishings,rare ( appropriated) art, textiles and the finest luxuries Alderaan had to offer.  
Sinilau revelled in it.

He had been living, far too long, in the sterile military environment of the underground Imperium, This, he mused as he seated himself in the elegantly appointed dining room, was more to his liking. The sumptuous meal placed before him by an efficiently silent serving droid,the vintage wine, only reinforced the ISD Director's initial impression of Alderaan as a military post.  
The privilege was being wasted on Siod. The lax discipline, and lavish surroundings, proved the Ablegate had made the most of his years there. Perhaps, Sinilau considered, it was time the insipid functionary was stationed elsewhere. Alderaan would make the ideal place to relocate the ever-expanding ISD nervecenter.

A rare morsel of nayur steak was poised before Sinilau's lips when an unusual tone sounded from the dining room's small, wall mounted comm console. It was followed by an automated voice announcing the Alderaanian emergency broadcast NewsNet. Sinilau listened suspiciously as the male voice reported that the Trisialon plateau collapsed into the Barisal Deeps after a seismic disturbance. All citizens were asked to avoid the area; air traffic over the western edge of Ilmanin was prohibited until an investigation was completed. Further details would be broadcast as they became available. The comm shut off abruptly.

Sinilau resumed his meal. His next transmission to the Deathstar was scheduled in less than two hours. He would mention the auspicious end of the Jedi-befouled monument to the Grand Moff Tarkin. Imperial propagandists would see that the whole galaxy knew about it.

" Sir?" Sinilau did not look up from his meal as Siod,prudently, halted at the dining room door. He never ate in the presence of others. The idiosyncrasy was one of the few things about the ISD Director that he allowed to be known. Now, as his food grew cold, Sinilau fixed the Ablegate with a frigid gaze.  
" What?" He hissed.  
" The Viceroy is about to address the planet." Siod reported. " It must be the announcement of the Princess' demise."

The two Imperials settled into the uncomfortable chairs in the Ablegate's spacious office; one somber, the other expectant. When the wall mounted, tri-dee screen came to life, the image was that of the palace throneroom, draped in purple. Bail Organa, dressed in formal robes of state, stood alone;a small purple ribbon fastened above his heart.  
Sinilau leaned forward, eagerly devouring every nuance of the image. Organa's appearance was a pleasant surprise. The old man seemed disoriented,haggard and he wobbled slightly; hands shaking at his side.  
" A pathetic spectacle." Sinilau remarked with feigned sympathy. " I would have thought the Minister of State, or even the brother, would have made a more dignified appearance."  
" Tradition,sir." The Ablegate barely managed to keep contempt from his voice. He was about to explain Alderaanian custom, when the Viceroy began to speak.

" It is with great sadness,my people," Organa began tremulously," That I come before you to announce the death of my only child, and your Senator, Leia Organa. The..." He took a deep, shuddering breath, and Sinilau licked his thin lips. " The 'Tantive' has been destroyed, while on a diplomatic are no survivors. My people..." The Viceroy began to weep.  
" Forgive me for involving you in this. Leia...Leia..."

Anizar and Vanaernum appeared quickly to assist Organa off-screen, as Nea Jurac took his place. In the background, Organa could be heard sobbing.  
Sinilau relaxed with a sigh of satisfaction.  
The Minister of State,efficiently and impassively, continued with the details of the four day mourning period, and the memorial service to follow it. She asked the people of Alderaan to honor the Princess, and those who had died with her, as well as the Organa family, with their prayers. With that, Jurac ended the transmission.

" It won't be long now." Sinilau remarked casually.  
" For what?" Siod countered defensively. There was a feral glint in the Director's narrow eyes that sickened him.  
" Organa and his people are the keys to the Alliance." Sinilau smirked. " Though you have provided precious little evidence of it all these years, Siod."  
" There is no evidence of Rebel sympathy here!" The Ablegate countered angrily. Incompetence, even treason, was being inferred. " You don't have anything but the suspicion you came with; if you did you would have acted immediately!"  
" You have some misguided conceptions of the workings of the ISD." Sinilau replied with finality.  
The Ablegate was summarily dismissed from his own office.

Sinilau contacted the incoming Deathstar.  
The Emperor had personally dispatched the ISD Director to Alderaan the moment he received news of the Princess' capture from the Dark Lord. Sinilau and Neiamas Palpatine were of the same mind on how to best utilize this unexpected bit of luck; and the traitorous Princess. Recovery of the battlestation's plans was left to Vader; but the Sithlord had not been informed of the Emperor's entire plan. Nor had Sinilau. Eschai Tarkin had been.

The Grand Moff's first orders, as Commander of the Deathstar, had been quite specific. Terrorize Alderaan with it; loom threateningly above the planet the Emperor knew to be Rebel allied, promising orbital and ground assault unless Sinilau was provided accurate information on the whereabouts of the Rebel fleet and Mon Mothma herself. The Alderaanian Princess would be interrogated at the same time,with the threat to her world as a powerful incentive for betrayal of the Alliance. Faced with the imminent ruin , and occupation of their pristine world, either Organa or his daughter would certainly speak volumes about the Rebels, even Mothma herself.  
The Princess/Senator was a disposable commodity in any event. She might provide some information,but the Viceroy-the defiant Admiral Organa- knew all; of that Palpatine was sure! If he would not ( unlikely, given his history of consistently protecting Alderaan at any cost) furnish the necessary data, Tarkin had special orders. Slow destruction of Alderaan would, undoubtedly, draw Mothma's forces out into the open in it's defense. The Rebellion was doomed either way. As were certain Imperials who had become too powerful.

Tarkin listened to Sinilau's optimistic report on Bail Organa's emotional state. The Viceroy would, in Sinilau's expert opinion, break before the Deathstar's arrival. Intimidation, it appeared, would be anti-climactic. By the time the battlestation was in effective range, Tarkin would be able to deliver the most historic information of their careers to the Emperor. The Grand Moff was instructed to stand by for further orders once achieving strike distance.  
Stand by, indeed!

Tarkin allowed himself a chuckle as the transmission amused him to think of Sinilau believing himself to be in control of the situation. Sinilau would be given the time to procure the confession of Bail Organa. The Viceroy's daughter, according to the preliminary reports of her interrogation, was more involved with the Alliance than the Emperor believed. Whatever there was to learn about the Rebellion could be extracted from Leia Organa,eventually. One way or the other, the Emperor would get his hated rebels-and a man he no longer trusted.  
The beautiful irony, the most gratifying aspect of it all, was that Tarkin had it, had hated Alderaan in his sights at last. He was unstoppable, and Palpatine was his ultimate target.

It happened sooner than Sinilau had anticipated.  
Bail Organa, himself, called the Ablegate's office. Sinilau barely recognized his voice; it was raspy, bitter.  
Sinilau took four guards and left immediately for the palace.

The ceremonial palace guards stood by helplessly as the Imperial contingent strode through the wide entrance corridor. Anizar waited where the main corridor branched off into three that led to the interior offices and living quarters. The somber aide escorted the Imperials to a narrow sub-hallway, then down a steep stairway hidden behind a carved panel. Sinilau looked warily to his guards; the men drew closer, weapons primed. Anizar halted before a seamless, metal door; touched his palm to the control panel.

Bail Organa stood alone in the war room. Sinilau recognized the equipment instantly, took note of the Viceroy's listless, desolate expression and waved two of his guards into the room. There were no other entrances and no one but the old Alderaanian present; and he looked half mad.

" If this is a trick, Organa." The ISD Director warned as he waved the guards out again. " I will have you executed where you stand."  
Bail's lips curled into a trembling snarl. " If anyone has been tricked,it is I, by Aerolone Mothma and her damned Alliance." He spat." Leia is dead because of her!"  
" You're admitting involvement with the Rebel Alliance?" Sinilau barely kept the excitement from his voice as he activated a small recording device attached to his belt. " You know the penalty for treason. For you and your accomplices."  
" Do you think I CARE?" Organa flared, pounding a desk with both gnarled fists. " I am an old man,my life is over in any case. Leia was all I had, and Mothma knew it when she asked her to intercept the Deathstar plans above Toprowa. I kept Leia out of this for years, she knew nothing of my involvement." Organa waved one hand toward the computers and monitoring equipment, then sank heavily into a nearby chair.  
" Who else was involved,and what was your daughter doing in the Tatooine system?" Sinilau's suspicions were easing somewhat, but he was getting impatient." Is Mothma, herself, there? A base?"

Everything he, and the Emperor, had always wanted to know about the Alliance was at his very fingertips.  
" No," The Viceroy answered warily, burying his face in his hands. " Leia doesn't...didn't know where the bases are. She was to return the plans to me. There are Freedom's Sons here, waiting to bring them to Mothma."  
" FREEDOM"S SONS?" Sinilau practically shouted. " WHO ELSE? and WHAT, I ask you again, was the 'Tantive' doing at Tatooine?"  
He leaned threateningly across the desk, fighting the urge to strike the old fool.

" I sent Leia for help." Bail answered slowly. " I sent her for Obi-Wan Kenobi.I wanted her to be protected. I wanted his help. He must have died with her, and I...I want Mothma to suffer, as I have suffered. She doesn't care that my child is dead, and I no longer care about anything. The people of Alderaan are not involved, Sinilau;but there are several dozen former military officers, the Minister of Defense , Anizar and myself. What I give you now." Organa stood, walked to a complex array of equipment and keyed the access code into the control board, " Will destroy Mothma's precious Rebellion, as it destroyed my life. It's all on bases, agents,sympathizers, even the support network."

Sinilau pushed Organa aside rudely, not knowing which screen to focus on; endless data scrolled by on all four. Bail stepped back a pace, eyeing the wall chrono surreptitiously.  
" I'll let you live long enough to see Mothma executed." Sinilau vowed, preparing to download the systems' memory into the main Imperial net.  
" Authorize Security Release for transferral." His eyes feasted on the names, people, places, and Tarkin was wasting his time interrogating a girl who knew nothing!  
" Organa!?"  
He turned to face the barrel of a hold-out blaster. His own hand flashed to his sidearm as Bail knew it would, and the Viceroy fired once.

Sinilau's body thudded to the floor as the war-room door slid open. The Palace guard followed Gerer Ridaught in,hoisted the ISD Director's lifeless form from the floor and hurried out with their grisly burden.  
" It's all over." Ridaught reported as Organa handed him the blaster. " All the Imperial's are dead. It went smoothly; we lost only eighty four. The Imp headquarters is secure."  
" Siod?" He had ordered the Ablegate spared if at all possible. The man had been decent.  
" Dead." The Defense Minister replied. " Shot by the ISD men as he tried to surrender. Your Majesty, the long range comm interference we've been experiencing was not generated locally. The Imperial system is down as well; as far as we can tell, the interference spectrum is system wide."  
" It's the Death Star." Bail looked at his friend with hollow eyes. " We have no time now. Launch all remaining transports. I'll find out how close it is."

Ridaught went to one console, Bail to the other. The Viceroy's call to the observatory at Thon was answered promptly. He waited nervously while the astrophysicist recalibrated his instruments for in-system scanning. First, the ion cannon had to be moved.

Ridaught instructed one spaceport after another to begin full scale evacuations. Scirelicet, Ilmanin, Sirsalis. In the dead of night, citizens would hurry from their homes, believing they were going to safety; but Sirsalis reported a problem. Launch Control at Maasym had a tragedy on it's hands. A fully loaded, modified Action-4 medium bulk freighter had crashed into the Columcille Deeps. The report was continuing when, one by one, other launch sites called in with news of engine problems on all ships. By the time Organa learned that,the Deathstar was only five planetary diameters out, approaching from the day-side, Ridaught realized that nothing larger than ground repulsor lift vehicles were operational. No one would ever leave Alderaan again. The two men took the only measures left to them.

All launch sites were instructed to unload all ships. Citizens were to be told as little as possible. Panic had to be avoided at all costs. Military units were ordered to redistribute their weapons to offensive positions. They were told to expect a full scale invasion at any moment. Neither man deluded himself into believing that their pitiful defenses could stand against Imperial assault for more than an hour or two. There was no hope of assistance from the Alliance. Even if the micro-burst had reached the rebel fleet, it could not stand against the invincible battlestation. The Viceroy, who loved his people,who valued life above all else, prayed that Mothma would come to Alderaan's defense. The Admiral- who did not believe it moral to waste even one ship on a lost cause- prayed she would not.

On Sirsalis, a scene identical to those all across Alderaan was being played that were already crowded with Alderaanian non-combatants, or were about to be loaded with them, were the centers of confusion.  
In larger cities, like Mistassin and Conakry, dispersal of people from the launch sites was quickly accomplished. Families, once notified by launch-control personnel, returned to bring their bewildered relatives home. Rural areas, and their centralized launch sites, presented a logistic problem.  
The launch site for the western section of Sirsalis was the desolate Ardalis plateau. Half a kilometer above sea level, the Plateau was only dimly illuminated by the landing lights of the two ships that occupied it.

When Brye and Ladis Dinnean arrived at the Plateau there were figures silhouetted against the dim,red running lights of the big ships. Indistinct shapes that proved to be groundcars and landspeeders of various sizes moved steadily away from the launch area. There was the sound of soft voices and repulsor engines in the wind, but no hint of the excitement the two farmers had expected. Brye guided the family landcruiser up the Plateau's gentle slopes, halting when directed by an armed Guardsman. He gave his name to the man,who relayed it to the transport before waving the Dinneans to a large shape outlined against the starry skies. The system was swift and efficient; it had to be with so many people to move and time so precious. Brye and his oldest son had, on the way to the Plateau, decided the best way to handle the questions his family was sure to have. They would claim ignorance of the problem that had canceled their flight; it would be a knew as much about the current situation as any Field Personnel: The Imperials were dead,the search for the source of the interference was still ongoing, and a transport had crashed into the Columcille Deeps. Somehow, Milla and the children would have to be convinced that the delay was only temporary. A precautionary move of Organa's , due to the presence of an Imperial convoy near the system.

Milla came down the boarding ramp first, carrying Jari; followed closely by Phalen and Vala assisting Bethe. Ladis took his youngest sister from his mother as Brye embraced Milla.  
" Where are we?" Jari asked drowsily,lifting her head from her brother's shoulder.  
" Home, little one." Brye answered, caressing her face. " Papa?" The little girl brightened. " I knew we wouldn't..."

Milla grasped her husband's arm as her children settled themselves in the vehicle.  
" Brye...are we trapped?" She asked softly,." Something's happened. Is it bad, or good?"  
" We're holding things up, Milla." He sidestepped her penetrating gaze. " Get in, I'll explain things on the way home."

The family was almost halfway home when Bethe went into labor.  
Little more than an hour later,Ria Callao came into a troubled world. Her father, stationed on Ilmanin, had missed the birth; but Bethe was hopeful that he would see his baby the next morning. Brye Dinnean marvelled at the tiny,dark haired infant;his first grandchild, and wondered how long she would be free.

******

Another morning had come to the western half of Sircilet, but the light of dawn was still several hours from Barisal. The palace was deserted, all employees had gone to their own homes, their frightened families. Only the Organa family,Anizar- whose own wife and children had escaped Alderaan days before,Ridaught, who would have chosen to remain in his offices directing the planet's defenses even if he could have reached his home on Niassus,Renata Antilles, and several droids stood vigil Landwerlin's husband, son, daughter and grandchildren were asleep in the nearby bedroom; but Landwerlin herself, Vanaernum and Anizar had joined the Defense Minister and Bail Organa in the war room. Time was running out for Alderaan and they, each of them, knew it. The Deathstar was slightly more that two planetary diameters away, and approaching steadily. Observatories and scientific stations on every continent tracked the monstrous battlestation; reporting data constantly. When it launched assault craft, Alderaan would know; and there would be only minutes before landing began, and fighting.

The Alderaanian leaders made good use of the time allowed to them to coordinate the civilian and military defense teams, reposition what large weapons they had set to defend large population centers and spaceports, and inflict as much damage as possible on incoming craft. The consultation with Field Command across the planet took only minutes with four at the comm console; and still nothing happened. No Imperial contact or military movement. Stardestroyers would have been able to mount a devastating attack in less time than it had taken the Imperial 'superweapon' to advance a single myriameter.

Every passing minute magnified the fear growing in the war room. The same, terrible thought was beginning to filter past the stubborn Alderaanian tendency to look at the light,not the dark of things-but no one would say it.  
" What are they waiting for?" Landwerlin whispered as she removed her headphones and wrapped frail arms about herself." Could it be as test? A bluff?"  
Her sharp,grey eyes flashed from man to man, reading the silent answer. Then a scientific station on Scirlicet's sparsely settled west coast, far into the morning,relayed heart-stopping data. The Deathstar was no longer moving.

Exactly two planetary diameters out, it had stopped. There was no hint of activity near the moon-sized station at all. Ridaught and Bail looked at each other momentarily, and Vanaernum's blood ran cold.  
" You don't expect an invasion,do you? " Vanaernum's tone was accusatory. " What does he mean by that?" Landwerlin glared at both of her brothers. " If not an invasion,what?"  
" Something worse." Vanaernum answered for Bail.  
The Viceroy rose slowly,and without a word, ushered his younger brother and sister out of the room. He would tell them what they truly faced; what he most feared. He had already decided what to tell the rest of Alderaan.

******

Emergency comm signals went off across Alderaan, ending an excruciating two-hour wait for information from the government. In her Med-Center room at Gissar, the Dinnean family was telling their weary, but happy, daughter good night and preparing to spend the night in the facility's visitor's accomodations when the wall comm's alarm startled them all.

" Oh, no," Milla murmured. More concerned about her daughter's rest than the latest palace news-brief. " You don't need this."  
" Leave it on,Mother." The young woman pleaded. " It may be about Martil's unit."

There was no visual,merely Bail Organa's voice. Brye closed the door as his family gathered around Bethe's bed. The Viceroy began by telling his people that,for the first time in twenty years, Alderaan was free. All occupying Imperial's were dead, the evacuations he explained, had been called off due to a large Imperial presence in the system.

******

" Large presence." The men and women of Martil Callao's defense unit understood the carefully chosen words were meant to sound as un-alarming as possible. Every individual who sat in hastily fortified buildings, or huddled around comm units in the mountains of Ilmanin and Scirelicet, thought of their homes and families. Martil's thoughts drifted to his young had to believe that Bethe and her family had been on a transport that had already departed for Watrous XII.

******

Like the countless alien students attending universities across Alderaan, those who heard the Viceroy at Coghlan listened intently for concern over their fates amid the talk of Alderaanian soldiers defending their own families if they could reach them-and each other's if they could not. The students were not comforted to hear the Viceroy offer his sympathy and urge them to the underground shelters. An invasion was obviously imminent, and there was no hope of escape to home worlds. Hundreds of races panicked in hundreds of ways, and frenzied university personnel tried to calm them-in some cases giving up.

******

Gerer Ridaught refused to give up as long as there was life in his body and the FDHD/L unit still functioned. He HAD to believe that the microburst sent to Mothma had reached her. The Empire shouldn't have been able to block a signal they did not know existed. There had to be a reply, and he would be there to receive it. His wife and family understood his duty was to the entire planet and even if there were no possibility of communication with the Alliance fleet, Ridaught was as cut off from his family as many of those he commanded

******

Bail Organa was nearing the end of his address; wishing his people well and trying to sound positive. The only positive thing Alderaan's Defense Minister could think to do was to send another microburst,on a repetitive cycle,to any Alliance craft that might be enroute to the system. He tapped the message carefully into the comm-link.  
" Deathstar at Alderaan...do not interfere....we cannot be saved...turn back...live to fight another day...remember us..."  
Ridaught set the board to deliver the microburst at one minute intervals, then turned to the local comm, entering the code for his home at Niassus.

Myrise Ridaught had been crying. After thirty five years of marriage she could not keep anything from him; but she tried. She asked if he were still at the palace, and he asked if she and the children were prepared to go to the shelter. Yes, she assured, ever the efficient military wife; and she and the oldest children were armed and prepared to defend the family.  
He apologized for not being with them, his voice cracking, and she answered as expected: that his place was with the Viceroy defending ALL Alderaanians.  
Then, there was a moment of silence in Ridaught's headset, as if a deep breath were being taken, and Myrise's strong voice dropped to a whisper.  
" Gerer? Is there still a chance?"  
" Myrise." Ridaught interrupted before she made him lie to her. " Promise me you will not leave the shelter,whatever happens. Someone will come for you."  
" Someone?" Her voice faltered for the first time." Not you?"

The transmission ended abruptly. For a long moment the Defense Minister listened to the static in his headset, then watched helplessly as all the electronic equipment in the room blinked off.  
Gerer Ridaught stood slowly, removed his headset, carefully pushed the chair beneath the console, extinguished the lighting and left the war room.

The 'Incisive' emerged from hyperspace with a wrenching jolt that flung it's crew against consoles and it's commander from her bunk. The veteran spacer muttered a choice Alderaanian obscenity as she got to her feet. The dim, night cycle illumination flickered out, then on again, emergency generator Brenn thought as she emerged from her cabin. Systems failure.

The main passageway was unnaturally quiet, no warning claxxons; not even the normal ships sounds. Pace quickening, Brenn headed for the bridge and was met by her First Officer before she reached the access hatch.  
" General!" The battle scarred Weequay had been promoted to his present rank because of his extraordinary composure and instincts; she had never seen him so obviously distressed.  
" Quickly."  
" What the hell happened, Kilenc?" Raaphorst barked. Her mouth gone dry. " Where are we?"  
" Alderaan system." The Weequay explained as they entered the bridge. The General's eyes went, immediately, to the forward viewport. All other eyes on the Command Bridge were on her.  
" It's already there." Kilenc finished. " And we're dead in space."  
" Status?" Brenn managed, both awestruck and repelled by the sight before them.  
" Scanning, Out. Comm. Out." The First Officer reported as the General checked the individual stations herself. " Minimal lifesupport. Backup systems only."  
" Incoming microburst on the FDHD/L, General!" The Comm officer called out." Decoding."  
" Origin?" Raaphorst snapped. Her thoughts were on Alderaan. The battlestation was far enough away to be undetectable by the naked eye from Alderaan's day side. Hopefully they were as sensor-blind as the 'Incisive' and did not know.  
" The Comm officer's reply shattered that optimistic wish.  
" Alderaan,General. Defense Minister's code."  
" Get the holo-cam's going." Brenn's orders surprised her crew. " Go to battlestations. Do what you can with the shields and sensors. We can't help, but we can try to document this."

The Defense Minister and the Viceroy conferred alone for several minutes in a shadowy corner of the throneroom. Ridaught found Bail Organa far from morose. There was an inexplicable air of triumph about the old man. The news of the total communications blackout seemed to have been anticipated. This was not how he imagined Bail would react at the end. No one waiting in the throneroom with Bail was acting normally. Vanaernum and Renata Antilles looked to be chatting pleasantly in a far corner. He'd seen Landwerlin and her husband returning to their sleeping family-neither looked upset. And Anizar was serving food and drink. Ridaught had not considered where he would spend his last moments, but he felt out of place in the throneroom. He felt like an outsider.  
" Something to eat, sir? "  
Gerer looked to his right at Anizar, selected a pastry from the colorfully arrayed tray, and thanked the man with a slight smile. Anizar smiled back, just as sadly; the pain in his eyes mirroring Ridaughts before he turned to Bail who was too preoccupied to notice the food.  
" It won't be long now. Will it, your Majesty?" Gerer finally asked.  
" That depends on my daughter." Organa replied simply, walking to the terrace. Ridaught two men stood silently for several moments, looking out across the Capital city's array of lights. The silence was deafening. Nothing moved. Not even animal noises could be heard in the crisp air.  
" She'll never talk, you know." Bail averred. " She'll die first. Gerer, you've been a wonderful friend, and a magnificent ally. If you choose not to see this to the end,I will not think less of you."  
" They'll have to come for me, Bail." Ridaught promised, and a genuine smile warmed Organa's eyes before he became solemn.  
" DO you know what I regret the most?" He asked his friend as he gazed at the stars. " That we'll never know him." "Skywalker's son?" Ridaught questioned. His own attention shifting to the sky.  
"Yes," Bail replied. " I don't even know his name, I said goodbye to him as an infant, I wish I could have said hello to the man."  
Organa's words trailed off. He straightened slowly,the hair on his neck prickling. Ridaught swallowed hard....any minute, he thought,any minute.  
" Do you see something? " The black man whispered hoarsely, scanning the heavens in the approaching dawn, he only saw stars.  
Bail stepped closer to the balcony's railing, a look of wonder on his face, as he faced the horizon to the west.  
" Yes." Alderaan's last King closed his eyes as he answered. " I see a light."

******

Brenn Raaphorst stood,motionless, at the 'Incisive's' curved viewport. Had she been a woman of faith she would have prayed. As it was, she simply stared at the blue and white orb before them and the dull, grey sphere of it's malignant satellite. The holo-cam's regular beep was the only sound on the 'Incisive's' bridge until it was drowned out.  
" OH GOD!! NO!!" The Alliance General screamed, her hands clawing at the transparisteel port as though she could reach the cataclysm beyond it. "NO! NO...noooo.."

Alderaan died in a colossal burst of light that paralyzed all aboard the 'Incisive' and ripped the heart from the Alderaanian General.

****** Alarms sounded throughout the ship as the disruptor field that had held the 'Incisive' dissipated. The Deathstar, thirty five degrees to port, retreated from the expanding shockwave with surprising speed. In shock still, the Alliance crew reacted instinctively.

" Shields?" Raaphorst demanded;still transfixed at the viewport.  
" Coming up to full." Someone responded.  
" Weapons charged and ready."  
" The scanners detect three T.I.E.'s approaching at 1-1-9.06!" The weapons officer shouted.  
" Take us out of here, Captain." Brenn commanded, finally sinking to a nearby seat." Set coordinates for Bestine. Warn the battlegroup to bypass the system as soon as we make the transit, and get me a secured channel to the Revenant."  
Building speed for the jump to hyperspace, the 'Incisive's' Captain watched two of the T.i.E.'s in his rear scopes vanish in a shower of sparks- Victims of hurtling debris. The last abandoned the pursuit, heading back to the retreating Deathstar as the rebel ship went lightspeed.

*****

Aerolone Mothma sat, grim faced, in Major's stateroom aboard the 'Revenant'. She had been there for five hours, the last one spent nervously pacing and watching the wall chrono. Major had tried everything to calm her; hot theine, neck massage-when he could persuade her to sit. If he had never understood the pressure Aerolone placed on herself,he did now.

" Don't worry before you have to, Aree." Major drawled, his eyes closing as he sprawled on a couch near the door.  
" I have' to!" Mothma snapped, turning to glare at the Freedom's Son. " If it bothers you, I'll do it elsewhere."

Major opened his eyes to return her hard gaze.  
" Do you think I'd leave you alone now?" He responded softly.

The comm signal jolted them both. It was Captain Yates, informing Mothma that a secure-channel transmission was incoming from the 'Incisive'. An eerie transformation overcame the Alliance President as she reached for the headset and sat at the console. Stone-faced, eyes glazed and expressionless, Mothma listened to the message. Concerned, Major moved beside her to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was trembling.  
" Transmission understood." Aerolone replied softly. " I await your arrival and your full report." Mothma removed the headset saying nothing further,lowered her face into her hands ,doubling over,sobbing.

Major fell to his knees beside her, his arms encircling her tenderly.  
" What, Aree? What's happened?" He whispered.  
" It's gone." Aerolone shuddered. " It's gone. Alderaan is gone."

It took a moment to process. They had murdered a , his traitorous kinsman, had altered the shape of history and metamorphisized hope into despair. Black rage filled Major's heart. The beast was near. He remembered, welcomed it.  
" We'll make them pay, Aree. I'll make him pay!" Major snarled.  
" NO!" Mothma jumped up, tears streaking her face as she pushed past him. " We haven't any hope!"  
" You've never given up in your life, President Mothma!" Major stalked after her, grasped her arm and swung her around to face him." You're not going to start now!"  
" YOU DAMN FOOL!" Aerolone pulled away,teeth clenched, eyes wide with fear and anger.  
" Who in their right mind is going to stand against Palpatine now? We have no defense against that thing! When our Allies learn of Alderaan, this rebellion will be what it was in the beginning...a handful of people with high ideals. As long as the Deathstar exists, we're finished."

******

Leia Organa understood hopelessness as she lay in her cell.  
There was no hope for her; no future, no family, no Alderaan. No reason to go on. No reason to fight death when it came through the cell doors for her. She heard the hatch slide open, but kept her eyes closed; hoping it was Vader and it would end quickly.  
Something, an unexpected sound, made her look.

Standing alone in the doorway, head tilted curiously, was a lone stormtrooper.  
" Aren't you a little short for a stromtrooper?" She heard herself remark stupidly; though she meant it to sound defiant.  
The helmet came off slowly, and Leia Organa looked into eyes she would remember forever.  
" I'm Luke Skywalker." The voice sent chills through her. " I'm here to rescue you."

END -Book IV of The Vanguard Chronicles

Two shall be born, the whole wide worlds apart and speak in different tounges, and have no thought each of the other's being, and no heed;  
and these, through unknown stars, to unknown lands shall cross, escaping wreck, defying death;  
and all unconsciously shape every act and bend each wandering step to this one end that one day, out of darkness , they shall meet and read life's meaning in each others eyes.

Fate-Susan Marr Spalding 


End file.
